Quarantined Beauty
Thursday’s, mani, pedi, Saturday’s Blow out, third Tuesday of every month hair color, first Wednesday of every month eyebrow wax, facial’s the second Monday of the month, eye lashes second and fourth Wednesday’s monthly, and dermatologist the first Monday of the month, yup, that covers it. I am afraid to add up the hours, and dollars. Normally, I don’t think about my beauty appointments. It’s just a fact of life, like brushing my teeth, or making my bed. The sudden outbreak of the Coronavirus has forced the entire country into isolation and all nonessential businesses to close indefinitely. I, with the rest of the world, rushed to load up on toilet paper, sanitizing cleaning products, paper towels and food, not realizing I should have been making my last chance beauty appointments.
Flecks of silver pushed at the edge of my forehead and just below my temples, while the ends of my hair began to split. Chips of nailpoish floated off my toes and the jagged edges of my fingernails gripped loose strands from my sweater. My eyebrows began to connect at the bridge of my nose.
“What the….”
My reflection in the mirror was less than pleasing. In fact, I found it upsetting, uncomfortable. My beauty routine was a distant memory and staring back at me was my new reality. My natural state of being. Untouched. An uncomfortable truth for me.
It’s not a new phenomenon that society radically influences our definition of beauty. I grew up flipping through fashion magazines, and ogling at supermodels with envy. Their endless slender legs, massive doe eyes and cheekbones like mountain peaks were mesmerizing. Thanks to social media, today women see ten times more unrealistic beauty standards on a daily basis.. Most of us chase that standard in the pursuit of looking young.
As I brushed my hair in different part patterns attempting to hide the growing number of grey strands, I wondered why I cared so much. Why did my naked fingernails and bushy eyebrows make me feel unattractive? I was still me. My smile was the same. My brain was the same. Personality intact. Had societies’ standards influenced me to the point that I couldn’t see myself as pretty anymore? The absence of a beauty regime had strippped me down to the purest form of myself, and shouldn’t that be beautiful?
Women have always faced a standard of beauty that doesn't apply to men. Men have no beauty expectations and are exempt from the same standards thrust upon women. The beauty industry has only recently addressed the needs of men in skin care, and it still remains only a fraction of what is offered to women. I rarely see a man in the nail salon, or sitting in a stylist's chair with dye slathered in his hair. Women are acutely aware of their beauty flaws, yet men appear unbothered by their grey hair, lack of hair, unkempt fingernails, and brutish toenails which society accepts and overlooks. Men would certainly notice a woman who allowed her aging hair color to be revealed, but Corona may have leveled the playing field. Eliminating all beauty professionals from assisting women in their endless pursuit of perfection will reveal if men can view women equally as beautiful in their natural form.
Witnessing the evolution from a beauty enhanced version of myself, to my body’s natural state, made me feel embarrassed for others to see a raw version of myself revealed. Now faced with the choice of beautifying myself at home or accepting myself organically, many deeper questions percolated in my brain. How could I get comfortable with my less than perfect self? Would it be possible to break the mold society has created and look in the mirror and feel beautiful without the nails, hair color, and long lashes? Could I see beauty in the raw unfiltered version of myself? I thought about the way others might view me. Would their opinions influence my ability to accept a new version of beautiful? And dating. Would my rejection rate increase with au natural toenails in my peep toe stilettos?
As the days pass, I’m beginning to adjust to my reflection and the view isn’t as jarring. Many of my friends have ordered professional manicure paraphernalia, facial masks to remove the blackheads and color kits to hide their greys, but for now, I’m going to let the natural version of myself prevail. I’m not sure I can embrace the age of Aquarius aesthetic, and I'm not sure I could comfortably go out in public, but I am trying to accept it. And that’s a first step.